The Differences Between
by Wynter Fyres
Summary: His biggest obstacle would be, when the time came, destroying Conan forever. And that was an obstacle he wasn't sure he would be able to get around.
1. One: Cliche

_**PART ONE**_

Conan was different.

Conan had primary school in the morning, multiplication facts to suffer through, the Detective Boys to handle, and parents away after a terrible accident. And Shinichi had high school waiting, his best friend wondering where he was, soccer to play, and Sonoko to ignore. And some of these things he shared with Conan, like soccer and Sonoko. And, sure, their fascination with detectives and Sherlock Holmes was another common factor.

But, the more time he spent as Conan, the more Shinichi began to realize that Conan was his own person. They weren't one in the same as he had once believed. Conan lived with Ran and her dad, was practically her little brother, was a miniature detective, one of the Professor's "grandkids." And Shinichi could never be those things.

Shinichi was Ran's best friend. But Conan had the Detective Boys for that. Shinichi was Ran's dad's biggest worry, whereas Conan was the whole reason he had a good career. And Shinichi was more like the Professor's friend. Not a grandkid by any means.

_Conan_ was Heiji's friend. Not Shinichi.

_Conan_ had rescued Ai. Not Shinichi.

Conan was this, Conan did that…and Conan had a time limit. He didn't have much longer.

And, as time passed, Shinichi began to realize his biggest obstacle would not be the Organization, or keeping his secret as he had once thought.

No, his biggest obstacle would be, when the time came, letting go of Conan forever, and destroying that person.

And that was an obstacle he wasn't sure he could get around.

* * *

His day starts at seven, where he walks with Ran-neechan to school. There he endures the endless chatter about Masked Yaiba and cooked eel with Genta, Ayumi, and Mitsuhiko until Ai arrives and saves his sanity. From there, they check Genta's locker for requests, hurry to class, and he pretends to work on things he already knew, then he goes home and plays soccer with the Junior Detectives while Ai reads a magazine on the steps.

After an hour or so, he says goodbye and walks Ai back to the Professor's, asks about any revelations about Gin and Vodka, goes back to Mouri's, and proceeds to explain to Ran-neechan why school was amazing today. He helps her with dinner. He does his homework. He reads for a while, maybe uses his bowtie to call Ran and assure her that Shinichi is fine, and finally goes to bed. Then it starts all over again until a case arrives, which he solves in place of the "Sleeping Kogorou" and goes on with the rest of the day.

And Conan was convinced he was bored of this life, that going back to being Shinichi, even for a day, would be like heaven to him. In fact, every time his temperature rose in the slightest, he would find some way to sneak a sip of paikaru in hopes it would turn him back. Usually it just gave him a headache and genuinely made him sicker, and not in the way he turned into Shinichi. Every once in a while he'd change, but he wouldn't place his bet on it whenever he got sick.

This was what he was sulking over in the back of the Professor's tiny yellow car, squished in between Genta and Ayumi. _Another vacation, _he thought briefly. _How many ways can this go wrong…?_

But he was shaken out of his bitter thoughts quite literally as Ayumi grabbed his arm. "Conan-kun!" she said excitedly, pointing out the window. "Look at the lake!"

He glanced up, out the window, and noticed the bridge they drove across for the first time. The lake beneath it was full of boats, people taking advantage of the last few weeks before the summer heat kicked in, just as school dwindled to a close and summer came in. The water shimmered in the sunlight, and he noticed the ring of hotels around the lakeside. "Pretty," he said, glancing towards the driver's seat where the Professor happily whistled.

Ever secretive and fond of surprises, the Professor had yet to tell them where he was taking them this time. Though, considering the swimsuits they had been told to pack and his recent view, Conan had a good idea of the location now. And he suppressed a sigh, thinking about how crowded it had all looked. _Just great._

"Look at all those boats!" And Conan _eep_ed in a very un-Conan-like way as Genta leaned his bulk across him to peer out the window. "I wanna ride on one!"

"Can't breathe!" Conan gasped as Mitsuhiko said, "Haibara-san, what do you think?"

Ai, sitting in the passenger seat, glanced up from her book. "It looks pretty," she said emotionlessly, "but crowded."

"Hey, Professor," Genta said, leaning away from the window and freeing Conan. "Are we going to the lake?"

"You'll see," the Professor replied gleefully, and Conan wiped a smudge from his glasses with a roll of his eyes. The Professor's tone said it loud and clear: _yes_.

"I think we are," Ayumi said. "Don't you, Conan-kun?" She turned from the window to smile at him.

"Y-Yeah," he stuttered, and he found himself inching a little closer to Genta, away from her. But Genta quickly elbowed him in back with a "Get off of me!" and Conan nearly fell into Ayumi's lap.

"G-Genta!" he shouted, but his voice was lost again as the Professor made a sharp turn and the whole backseat shifted in Mitsuhiko's direction, squashing him with a yell against the door.

"Ow," Mitsuhiko muttered when they all slid back into their seats.

"Sorry," chuckled the Professor. "Nearly missed my turn!"

"You should've brought a map," commented Ai.

"I know where I'm going," he argued, and the two were lost in their bickering, just like they were actually related.

And, as the backseat conversation slipped into the newest Masked Yaiba episode, Conan sighed a little and leaned back into his seat. _How much longer, _he wondered, _will I be stuck like this?_

* * *

"Hotel room number 304," read Mitsuhiko from the keycard the Professor had handed him. Then he glanced up at the little plaque beside the door. "This is our room," he said, looking back at Genta and Conan.

"Finally!" said Genta, and Mitsuhiko quickly opened the door. The three dragged their suitcases, filled with enough clothes for a weeklong trip, into the hotel room, letting the door swing shut behind them. Conan quickly took in the room—two beds separated by a nightstand, a small closet, a miniature couch against the wall, a sliding door connected to a small balcony beside it. He felt his eyes twitch. _Two beds? _

Then he put his focus back onto the others and saw Genta back up, then take a running jump onto the bed closest to the door. The bed creaked under his weight, and he bounced up. "It's soft!" he exclaimed. "Really soft! Like I'm on a cloud!"

"Really?" Mitsuhiko, taking a gentler approach, sat on the end of the bed. "It is!" he agreed.

Conan was about to make a comment about the number of cloud-soft beds when another door caught his eye. Near the closet, it had their room number on it in silver, and then a dash and the number _305_. He felt a frown slip onto his face. "Hey," he said to the others, "are we connected to the girls' room? Or the Professor's?"

Genta stopped bouncing and noticed the connected door. "I didn't think so."

"The Professor's a floor above us," supplied Mitsuhiko. "I think he's directly above us. And Ayumi-chan and Haibara-san are on our other side." He eyed the door, too. "I bet the Professor didn't know this room connected to another one."

Conan frowned at it, then grabbed his suitcase and dragged it over to the door. Using it as a stool, he reached up, grasped the lock, and turned it. "Jeez," he muttered, jumping down. "Not even bothering to check the rooms he sticks us in…"

"All right, now that that's solved," Genta said, "I call this bed!"

"I call the other!" said Mitsuhiko quickly.

"H-Hey—" started Conan, then stopped, sighing loudly. _I knew that was gonna happen. _So he went ahead and gave up and began pushing his suitcase towards the couch. _This is going to be a long week._

* * *

Ayumi unlatched the lock and pulled the sliding door open, racing up to the railing of the balcony and pulling herself up so she could see down below. On the third floor, the people looked kind of small, all running through the sand around the lake's edge and through the docks, unhitching boats and racing off into the water. And the water was beautiful, still sparkling in the light even as the sun began its descent and night approached. Through the fading light, she could see little shapes dotting the water farther out, lots of them. "So pretty," she said, awed.

"Those are islands," said Ai, coming up behind her. "Those little pieces of land out there. They aren't real islands like out in the ocean, which are much bigger, but people still go to these islands as well."

Ayumi looked back at the brunette, then back at the islands. "I want to go to one," she decided.

They looked out a bit longer before Ai finally became a voice of reason again and said, "We have to unpack in time to meet the others for dinner downstairs. Let's go back."

"Aw," Ayumi pouted, but she let go of the rail and followed Ai back into their room. She glanced back at the islands once more and smiled a little. _I want to go to an island, _she thought, _with Conan-kun._ Then she slid the door shut and ran back to her suitcase.

* * *

"Yes, I need a table for six," the Professor told the waitress. "Five kids, one adult." And he snickered a little at what Conan's expression would be if he heard that.

"It'll be just a moment, sir," the waitress said. "Please wait while we clear a table." And she bowed a little before hurrying back through the restaurant's doors to inform the busboys of their task.

The Professor checked his watch as she left, frowning at the time. _They sure are slow, _he thought. Then he heard the _bing!_ of an elevator opening. He turned to see if it was the kids and ran smack into a man coming up behind him. He stumbled back a step, then offered an apologetic grin. "Sorry about that," he told the man, then shrank back a bit at the man's glare.

"Tch," was the man's only reply, then he tugged his black fedora down over his eyes and pushed forward, striding past the hotel restaurant and down the following hallway, where the hotel's conference rooms were. The Professor watched him go, scowling a little.

"What's with that guy?" he muttered. Then, looking back to the elevator, he said, "It's cliché to wear all black anyway."

* * *

_**Please review and tell me what you think! Thanks for reading! I hope you liked chapter one! -Wynter Fyres**_


	2. Two: Lies

_**PART TWO**_

"Hey, Haibara-san, which one? Which one?"

Ai finished tying off her swimsuit top and glanced over her shoulder to see Ayumi, still dressed, standing beside her suitcase. In each hand she held a different swimsuit, and there was a look of genuine concern on her face.

"Which one?" inquired Ai.

"Which swimsuit!" said Ayumi impatiently. "You're good friends with Conan-kun, right?" And, at Ai's shrug, she continued, "Well? Which swimsuit would he think was cuter?"

Ai fought back a laugh, trying to imagine Kudo-kun finding any primary student attractive. She settled instead for a sly smile, her signature expression, and turned to face the young girl with her hands on her hips. "My, they're both rather cute," she said, playing along. She eyed the pink two-piece in her right hand, then the blue one-piece in her left. _Neither, _she wanted to say. _He's taken. _But, noticing that worried look on the girl's face, she picked randomly.

"The pink one. Pink's your color," she said, and even though she would've said the exact same thing for the blue one, Ayumi's face lit up.

"Really? It's my favorite, too." Ayumi held the pink one up high, smiled at it, then draped the blue one across her bed. "Thanks, Haibara-san!" she said, hurrying towards the bathroom to change.

Ai watched her go, then let out a sigh when the bathroom door closed behind her. _He's taken, _she thought again. _And neither of us will change that. _Then she turned and saw herself in the wall-length mirror. Her eyes narrowed as she took in her small body, just as it had been ten years ago, covered in a green, two-piece swimsuit. What she had said to Kudo-kun had been true—looking at her reflection did make her feel depressed. It reminded her of the events that had led her to this body, none of which she liked to remember.

She felt her emotions shut down, just as they did every time her mind took a direction she didn't like. Then she turned back towards the room, away from the mirror, and plucked a t-shirt from her suitcase to pull over her swimsuit. _Today will be fine, _she told herself. _Today will be fine._ _They won't find me here—_

"Haibara-san."

Ai jerked, startled, and turned to see Ayumi standing behind her, a towel draped over her shoulders. She looked at her curiously. "Are you okay?"

Ai blinked, then breathed out and felt her heartbeat return to a more normal pace. "Of course," she replied blandly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Ayumi tilted her head a little. "I don't know. You just looked—"

"Come on," Ai interrupted, picking a magazine up off her bed and striding towards the door. "They're probably waiting for us downstairs."

Ayumi hesitated a moment, then smiled and followed her. "Okay!"

* * *

_Thonk. _

"Ow!" Conan readjusted his glasses, which were hanging from one ear now, as the beach ball rolled away. He shot Genta a look, who quickly glanced away. "I told you guys," he said, "I don't want to play."

And he meant it. He truly meant it now, and none of their puppy eyes were going to drag him in. The couch being lumpy and Genta's snoring combined kept him awake for most of the night, and when he did finally sleep, he dreamed. He dreamed of Gin and Vodka finding him at last. He dreamed of Ran never knowing what had happened to him. So, by the time he was violently shaken awake and forced to come to the lakeside, he was in one of his worst moods. The mood that even made Ai shy away from him.

_What's funny, _he thought briefly, _is that I can't remember being this grumpy in high school. _But the thought was chased away as Genta grabbed the beach ball and whined, "But Ai won't play either! I'm outnumbered, Conan!"

"Don't care." He started to go back to his Sherlock Holmes book when the ball hit him in the face again, this time knocking the book into the sand. "Holmes!" he yelped, in much the same way Genta would if he was denied his eels. He glared at him again, reaching for his book.

"Come on, Conan-kun!" Mitsuhiko shouted from the other side of the net. "Stop being lazy!"

"You're being boring!" Genta agreed. "And…could you throw me the ball?"

Conan ignored them and brushed sand from the pages of his book, muttering, "Seriously, this is one of my favorites…"

"Conan-kun."

He looked up at the voice and saw Ayumi standing beside his lawn chair, looking curious. "Conan-kun," she said again, "you seem upset today."

He made a face. "I was just hit by a beach ball twice."

She tilted her head. "You seem…_grumpy_."

There was instant laughter from the net. "He's always grumpy!" called Mitsuhiko.

"Unless there's a case," added Genta.

"Of course." They all glanced to the lawn chair beside Conan, where Ai lounged with a glass of juice, the only thing they could get for kids from the snack stand. She tilted her sunglasses down a little bit so they could see her eyes, a ghost of a smile on her face. "Edogawa-kun is only happy if someone's dead or missing," she explained, and Conan felt another frown on his face.

"So that's your interpretation of me, eh?" Sarcasm tinged his voice. "Thanks a lot." _This day just gets better and better._

"I don't think it's true," said Ayumi, and Conan blinked, turning to look at her. She smiled. "Conan-kun's happiest with us!" she told him, and he felt his face flush.

"Well, um…" he stammered, and he swore he heard Ai snicker. "I-I…" How did he respond to that?

But he didn't have to.

"Hey, Conan!" shouted Genta. "If you play and we win, how about you get Mitsuhiko's bed for the night?"

"What?" objected Mitsuhiko, but Conan grasped at the distraction.

"I'll take that bet!" he called, and, grabbing the ball, he raced out to the court. He tried not to think about the fact that he had let them drag them into their games. Besides…he really did want that bed.

And, running back to her side of the court, Ayumi smiled again. _He's happiest with us, _she told herself.

* * *

Her juice was all gone, and with the sun glaring down at her on her chair, her throat instantly became parched again and demanded another drink. She closed her magazine and set it down in her place, then turned to the Professor. He was almost asleep in the third lawn chair, his glasses slipping down his big nose. "I'm going to get another drink," she told him.

"Mm-kay," the Professor mumbled sleepily, and Ai had the feeling she could've said she was going to go hunt giraffes in Africa and his answer would've been the same. She rolled her eyes a bit, then slipped back into her sandals and headed for the snack stand.

It was a ways down the lakeside, which was why they had initially stopped there first on their way to what the Professor called the "best tanning spot on the lake." To Ai, however, this place felt more like a beach—the warm sand, string of hotels, volleyball games, and lots of water all reminded her of going to the beach. The only thing different were the tiny islands, all close together, and clearly uninhabited despite the litter strewn about. Ai glanced towards those islands now as she walked and somehow found herself wishing, just like Ayumi, that she could go to one of those islands. Except she didn't want anyone coming with her.

_No one else. No one would find me there, _she thought. _Everyone would be safe from me. And I would be safe from everyone else. _It was a tempting thought. But she couldn't lie to herself. Even if the organization wouldn't find her there, she knew one person who would, without fail, deduce her location. He always would. It almost made her hate him. Almost.

After a couple more minutes of walking, she finally found the snack stand again. She stepped into the three-person line to wait, looking around her as she did. She couldn't see the Professor or the others anymore, she was so far down the beach, but there were plenty other interesting people to see.

Like the two college boys burying their sleeping friend in the sand. Or the woman trying, yet failing, to seduce a man into rubbing tanning lotion onto her back. There were a couple of kids chasing a puppy, someone zipping by in the water on skis, or the man who came out into the summer heat in a black trench coat—

Ai felt her heart stop for a moment, her eyes locked on the man. His coat reached his feet and hid the rest of his clothes, a black fedora hiding his eyes and the soul behind them that she knew was as black as his outfit. The only defining thing about the man was his long hair, streaming down his back, and such a light color that it was a grayish blonde. She would know this man even with her eyes closed, though, just from the aura he emitted—_wicked_.

The panic rose sharp and fast in her chest, lodging in her throat and refusing to let any sound come forth. She could feel her heartbeat in her ears, felt the world slow down as she watched the man stride across the sand in the direction of the boat rental shop. And even though she couldn't see his eyes, when his head tilted in her direction, she could've sworn he was looking right at her—or, rather, straight through her—and saw exactly who she was.

"Little girl!"

A sharp gasp finally burst from her mouth, and her head snapped in the direction of the voice. She hadn't noticed the line move up, and the clerk looked at her exasperatedly. "What can I get you?" he asked impatiently.

"I-I…" she stammered, and her eyes drifted back towards where she saw him. He was gone, probably in the shop now. So why did it feel like he was still watching her?

She wanted to run away, far away, but now her throat was especially dry. And, besides, if he were watching her, it would be suspicious if she ran off without buying anything. So she managed a "One juice, please," and shakily handed over the money. Then she snatched her drink and took off—not towards the others, because now that was dangerous. She raced towards the hotel and prayed she looked like a girl excited for vacation instead of a woman-in-disguise that was running for her life.

* * *

Conan leapt up into the air, his hand cracking against the ball, and he watched it fly…right into the net. He made a face as it rolled back towards his feet.

Ayumi laughed, and Mitsuhiko called jokingly, "Nice shot, Conan-kun!"

"Jeez," muttered Genta. "I thought you'd be better at this."

"Don't blame me!" Conan snapped. "I play soccer, not volleyball!"

"I think you can _only _play soccer," said Mitsuhiko, and offered an apologetic grin at Conan's glare. Then, for the fifth time, Conan noticed him look towards Ai's empty seat.

Conan looked, too, then said, "She's been gone a while, hasn't she?"

Mitsuhiko seemed blush a little at being caught looking. "It's been almost an hour," he said, and Conan detected worry in his voice. "It doesn't take that long to get from the snack stand and back, does it?"

"I dunno," shrugged Genta, picking up the beach ball. "It was pretty far."

"Still…" Mitsuhiko said. "It's too bad we left our badges in our rooms."

"Maybe she got lost?" suggested Ayumi. She came up to the net and looked through it at Conan, as if he made the decisions. "Should we look for her?"

Conan shrugged a little. "She could've just decided to go back to the room," he told her. "She seemed pretty bored."

"You did too," put in Mitsuhiko, "but you're still here."

"You forced me to be," muttered Conan, but Genta talked over him, "All right! As the Detective Boys, we'll find her!"

The others automatically cheered as if this was a big mission, though there were only a few places she could be. Conan sighed, then followed after them as they began running down the lakeside and towards the hotels. They didn't bother telling the Professor. He was already snoring, fast asleep.

* * *

They split up at the snack stand—Genta and Mitsuhiko were going to search the beach, in case she just got lost. Conan and Ayumi were to search their hotel rooms. As the two headed up the gravel path to their hotel, Conan kicked a stone and muttered, "Jeez, she probably just decided this was lame and went to take a nap or something."

"Haibara-san would tell us, though," objected Ayumi. "So we wouldn't worry."

Conan smiled wryly. _Not necessarily. _But he dragged the front doors open and let them in, and they headed for the elevators. They were silent as Conan pushed the button and the elevator doors slid open.

As they stepped inside, though, Ayumi said, "Conan-kun? What was bothering you earlier?"

He glanced at her curiously as the doors shut, trapping him in the conversation. "Bothering me?" he asked, playing dumb, because how could he explain the real reason to her?

"You had this frown on your face," she explained, and she demonstrated, exaggerating the expression until he cracked at least a little smile. "You only have that frown on," she went on, "when there's a big case or you're in the Mood."

"The Mood?" he inquired. She had emphasized the _m_, as if it were meant to be capitalized, so he did the same. "What's the Mood?"

"It's what I call your worst mood," she admitted. "When you get sad…and quiet. And then you seem mad at us." Her eyes looked wide and curious, very innocent. A little upset, too. "Real mad."

Conan stared at her for a minute, then tried to smile reassuringly. "I'm not mad at you guys," he said. But it was a lie. Because, when he was in that Mood, he was mad at everybody. He was mad at the organization for feeding him that pill. He was mad at Ai for making it. He was mad at Ran for not knowing, not understanding, mad at her dad for not being a better detective, mad at his parents for not being there…and, sometimes, he was mad at her. At all of them, for being so innocent, so easily hurt, so if that organization did find them, how could he protect them? But he said the lie again: "I'm not mad at you."

Ayumi blinked slowly, like she didn't really believe him. But then she smiled and said cheerfully, "If you say so!" And the elevator doors opened, she bounded out, and he was left wondering if she really believed him or not.

* * *

He followed her down the hall as she led the way to the girls' room. "Haibara-san had our keycard," she said to him as they walked, "so I can't get in, but if she's there, she'll open the door for us."

"Unless she's asleep," Conan muttered, and Ayumi didn't say anything. They stopped in front of her door, and, just in case, she tried the doorknob. It was locked.

"Haibara-san?" Ayumi called, knocking on the door. "Haibara-san, are you there? Haibara-san!" Then they were quiet, listening for a response. When there was none, Ayumi tried again, "Haibara-san, open up!"

Then, barely, Conan heard, "Yoshida-san, please leave me alone." Her voice sounded strained.

Conan and Ayumi glanced at each other, and her eyes mimicked his own concern. "I-Is everything okay?" Ayumi called hesitantly. "Do I need to get the Pro—"

"Please leave me alone!" This time Ai's voice was louder, more demanding, and Ayumi took a step away from the door.

"Haibara-san…" she said quietly, then she looked at Conan. Her eyes were determined, and Conan realized she'd had an idea this time instead of him. "You try knocking," she told him.

"What?" he asked incredulously. "Why? She won't open up!"

"She'll open up for you." Ayumi's voice was certain.

"What makes you think that?" he demanded, because if Ai's mind was set on something, she would stick to it. He especially wouldn't change her mind.

"Because…" Ayumi halted, seemed to hesitate, then finished, "Because girls like to be comforted by people they like."

Conan snorted. "If Ai likes me, how do you feel?" he asked. He meant it as a joke, but then Ayumi blushed and looked down at her feet.

"Just try knocking!" she told him, and he decided not to press the matter. So he raised his hand and rapped his knuckles against the door.

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

"Yoshida-san, go—" Ai started, but Conan interrupted.

"You gonna tell me what's wrong with you or not?" he asked.

There was a brief moment of silence, during which Conan was sure Ayumi was wrong and he was about to yelled at, too. Then the door cracked a little bit, Ayumi jumped behind him and hid, and Ai peeked out.

Her voice was stuffy, and she sniffled a little. "Are…Are you alone?" she said softly.

"Um…" he said, still surprised she'd opened the door. He glanced behind him quickly, and Ayumi pressed a finger against her lips. He got the gist of it: _If you tell her I'm here, she'll shut the door! _"Y-Yeah, I'm alone," he said finally. "Ayumi left."

"You're sure?"

He sighed, exasperated. "Of course I'm sure! Will you let me in?"

She didn't answer. She just vanished from the crack, and he took it as an "all right." So, with a final glance back at Ayumi, he opened the door and stepped inside.

He instantly knew something was very wrong. Ai's suitcase was on her bed, fully packed, and the room was very dark because the curtains had been drawn, even tied close with one of the hotel towels so no light came in from outside. Ai was perched on the end of her bed beside the suitcase, surrounded by used tissues, her hand resting on the suitcase's handle like she was ready to run at a moment's notice.

"Lock the door behind you," she said as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. "Both locks."

"What's this about?" he asked, confused. "Someone would need your keycard to get in anyway—"

"Just do it!" she said, and the tone of her voice—so scared—made him shut up and turn to lock the doors. Once she'd heard both locks slide into place, the tightness in her shoulders relaxed slightly. But only slightly.

"She's out in the hallway, isn't she?" Ai asked, her voice void of emotion again. "Yoshida-san."

Conan blinked. "Wh-What made you think…?" he stammered, but she cut him off.

"You should know," she said, "that you are a horrible liar. You stutter too much. You need to get better if you want this charade of yours to work any longer." As she talked, she stared down at her hands, refusing to look at him.

He frowned at her. "Shut up," he said automatically, because they bickered like this frequently and now it was almost a second nature to him. But she didn't smile in the slightest, which wasn't too unusual. The packed suitcase, the drawn curtains, and the sniffling, however, were a different story. What scared him about this situation was that there was only one thing he could think of that would send her into such a state.

He came closer to her, away from the door where he knew Ayumi would be trying to listen in, and lowered his voice. "Did you see them?"

She didn't say anything. She just nodded, a quick, jerky movement. He noticed her hand trembling on the suitcase handle. And, after her confirmation, he found himself surprised that his first thought was not that the pill was just within his reach, that an antidote was so close, that he could be a high-school kid again.

No, his first thought was: _They're here to ruin the Detective Boys' vacation again._ Then he blinked, shook his head, and the other thoughts filtered in. "Where?" he demanded, beginning his interrogation. "Where did you see them? How many?"

Ai sniffled again. "When I went to the snack stand. He went into the boat rental place behind it…I only saw him…" Her voice trembled, then she steadied it again. "It was Gin."

Conan took a deep breath, then exhaled a swear. "Vodka won't be far, then," he muttered, and his feet carried him to the other side of the room, back to his previous spot, then to the other side again until he was pacing anxiously. "We need to make a plan," he said decisively. "To get that drug. We can't let them get away this time, not without that drug—"

"What about them?" Ai cut in suddenly.

Conan stopped pacing at the far side of the room, next to the curtained window. He looked back at her. "Them?" he questioned.

"Them," she said forcefully. "Don't tell me you've already forgotten who came here with us! Who's outside the door!" She raised her eyes for the first time, and they narrowed at him. "What happens to them if _they _find out who came with us?"

Conan's face paled a little bit, his mind suddenly filled with his nightmares from the previous night. Except now, when Gin and Vodka found him, they found Ayumi, too. And Genta, and Mitsuhiko, and the Professor…and they killed them. Just before they killed him.

He quickly shook his head, as if shaking the images from his mind, shaking away the awful turning in his stomach. "I won't let them get hurt," he told Ai, his voice filled with determination. As he spoke the words, he heard Ayumi's voice in his head, clear as day: _Conan-kun will protect me, right?_

Then Ai's words took her words' place. "You can't be sure of that," Ai said. "Gin is ruthless. They're unpredictable. They're…" Her voice hitched. "They're murderers."

"You think I don't know that?" he snapped at her. He knew all too well, because he had been the one with Ai's sister in her final moments, right after they shot her and left her to die. The one case he left unfinished. It haunted him still, and he knew it certainly haunted her as well. Which was why she was saying what she was now, why she was as panicked as she was. Those thoughts made him rein the annoyance out of his voice and say in a gentler tone, "Letting them get hurt was never an option for me. Not for a moment. So trust me with this."

"Tell me you have a plan then," Ai demanded. Her voice shook. "Tell me you have a plan, a foolproof plan, because I can tell when you're lying." She laughed a little, a short, bitter laugh. "Everyone can, I think."

Conan was silent for a moment. "I have a plan," he said finally, without a stutter, without looking down or away. "Trust me," he repeated.

Her hand still clutching her suitcase, Ai finally nodded. "I will," she said, and she reached for another tissue to blow her nose.

When she turned her head, only then did Conan let his eyes drift downward guiltily. That was one of the few times Conan had ever lied and gotten away with it.

* * *

_**I hope you enjoyed the second chapter! I'll update around every Thursday or Friday (sorry for not saying this before!). Please review and tell me what you think! -Wynter Fyres**_


	3. Three: Sherry

**PART**_** THREE**_

"Partner!"

Gin glanced up from under his fedora and, through the smoke drifting upward from his cigarette, he saw his black-clad companion, suitcase in hand, jogging down the docks towards him. As he approached, he gave him a breathless grin. "Did I keep you waiting?"

In response, Gin scowled and flicked his cigarette butt over the boat's rail, into the water. "Did you bring it?" he demanded. No 'hello.' No 'Where have you been?' because that would imply he cared. But the coldness was expected after being his partner for so long, and Vodka's grin never wavered.

"Yeah," Vodka replied, lifting up the suitcase. "Wasn't easy, though." He tossed the suitcase down to his partner, then leapt into the boat after it. He quickly set to work revving the boat's engine, while Gin lit another cigarette and opened the clasps on the case.

Cracking it open to peek in, he smirked. "Good work." He redid the locks and turned his grin towards Vodka. "If he buys it, we'll be in and out by tomorrow night," he said.

"I know," Vodka said, and the boat shot out into the water, sending little waves spraying up behind it and splashing the tourists on the docks. "Later," he called back over the engine's roar, "I say we pop a bottle of champagne to celebrate a job well done."

"A fine idea."

"Which room do I send it to?" asked Vodka.

"Tell them," answered Gin, "to leave outside room 305."

* * *

"Ayumi-chan?"

Ayumi jumped a little and stepped away from the door, turning to look behind her. Genta and Mitsuhiko stood a little ways back, looking confused. "Ayumi-chan," Mitsuhiko said again, "what are you doing?"

"We were supposed to meet back at the snack stand half an hour ago," complained Genta. "Where's Conan?"

"Shh!" hissed Ayumi, and they shut their mouths. She pointed to the door and whispered, "He's in there. With Ai-chan."

"Why are you out here then?" asked Mitsuhiko.

"They locked the door."

"Why would they—" began Genta, but then both Mitsuhiko and Ayumi said, "Shhh!" And then they pressed their ears to the door, straining to hear. "Jeez," Genta muttered, but he put his ear against the door, too.

Barely—just barely—they heard, _"…it secret?" _It was Ai.

_"'Course," _came Conan's reply. _"You…me?"_

_ "Yes."_

A million possible situations raced through Ayumi's head, situations in which they would use these words. But the only one she could think of…no, Ai had already told her she wasn't interested. Would Ai lie to her? She didn't think so, but then why—

"Holy crap!" burst Genta. "Are they _dating_?"

"Shut up!" snapped Mitsuhiko. "They'll hear you—"

There was the _click _of a door unlocking and, before they could run, the door was flung open and they tumbled into the hotel room with a simultaneous _"Oof!" _followed by an "Ow!" Then they looked up and into Conan's scowling face.

"Oi," he snapped, "what do you think you're doing?"

"Um," Genta chuckled nervously. "We were just…"

Mitsuhiko sat up on his knees, fists clenched. "Conan-kun! Are you and Haibara-san secretly dating?" he demanded, squinting his eyes at him.

Conan's eyebrows shot up. "What are you talking about?"

"You said you're keeping something secret," Genta accused, seeming to have accepted that they'd been caught. But the accusatory tone fell with a teasing one as he said, "I knew you liked her all along."

"You _are _dating!" cried Mitsuhiko.

"I-I didn't say that!" said Conan. He sounded flustered.

As they argued, Ayumi sat up and looked closely at Conan's face. His cheeks were red, embarrassed, his mouth turned down in a frown. Something was wrong, though. Something was wrong with the look in his eyes, but she couldn't place it. Her own eyes, full of confusion, traveled to the back of the room. She could see Ai sitting on the bed, her fists clenched around something, her suitcase sitting on the bed beside her. She stared dully at them as the chaos unfurled, not saying anything. There was no admittance to their accusations, no denial. There was nothing.

Somehow this reminded her of the day Ayumi had first confronted her about Conan. The day she asked if Ai was in love with him. And the first thing she said was, _"What if I am?" _It wasn't an answer, and it wasn't even a real question that she wanted answered. But still, she'd replied, _"Well, then I'd be in trouble." _And Ayumi felt if she asked Ai, and not Conan, if they were dating, it would play out much the same way, all over again.

But, instead of the question she wanted to ask, a different one came out. "Ai-chan," she said, "are you leaving?"

The boys stopped arguing at her voice, and they all glanced back at Ai's suitcase, finally noticing it was packed. There was silence for a moment, everyone's eyes on Ai.

"No," Ai said finally, "I just don't feel very well. I think I'll stay here."

It was another non-answer, because it didn't answer the question, _Was she leaving? _But it was a good reply, at least for her, because it distracted them. Suddenly, they were concerned for her, how was she feeling, did she need anything…

And the conversation unfolded from there, Ai answering in her short, mysterious way, Conan blundering for an excuse for locking the door. But Ayumi still felt uneasy, because Conan's eyes still looked off. And, when she looked, the expression in his eyes matched Ai's.

She thought they looked…_scared_.

* * *

When the Professor opened his eyes from his nap, the volleyball game had resumed. So, to his knowledge, everything was fine. Conan planned to keep it that way, and so did Ai. They had already come to the conclusion that, if they told the Professor now, he would take them—all of them—back to the city, and the antidote would once again be out of reach. They couldn't blame him, because the possibility of them dying trying rather than actually succeeding was admittedly higher. But Conan was willing to take that chance.

_"We'll keep it secret?"_ Ai had said.

_"'Course," _Conan had replied. _"You trust me, right?"_

_ "Yes."_

And so secret it was, at least until they deemed the situation too dangerous. Then they would have the Professor take the others away. Without them.

Conan swung his fist at the beach ball as it came towards him, putting all his frustrations—_Ran, Ai, Detective Boys, Professor_—into the hit. The ball sailed over the net, over Ayumi and Mitsuhiko's heads, and landed a little into the water, where it proceeded to start to drift away with waves made by boats.

"Amazing, Conan-kun!" exclaimed Genta. "You actually hit it over the net this time!"

"Maybe so," Mitsuhiko called, "but it's still out of bounds!"

"I'll get it," Ayumi said, and she ran down the beach and waded out into the water.

Conan barely heard or saw any of this. As soon as the ball flew off, his anxiousness remained, and his eyes darted about, taking in the people around him. _Any one of them, _his mind whispered. _Any one of them could be from there, disguised. _

A hand came down on his shoulder and he swung around, startled, but it was only Genta, grinning lopsidedly. "If you can hit like that again," he was saying, "and hit it straight, you can win that bed!"

"The…?" _Oh, yeah. I was playing for the bed. _He put on a smile. "Sure."

"Not likely," Mitsuhiko said. "It's still three-to-one!"

"We're having a comeback," Genta retorted.

As Ayumi ran back with the ball and bounced it over the net, Conan kept that smile on his face. He had to, because if he didn't, they would know something was wrong. They would try to find out what. And if they found out, he didn't know what he'd do, because then they'd want to help.

If they helped, they'd get hurt. That's what he told himself, because it was the only thing keeping him from telling them right now. He wanted nothing more than for them to know why he was upset. Why he got mad.

_If they help, they'll get hurt, _he chanted, and he hit the ball with all his anger again.

* * *

Ai was terrified. She was absolutely terrified at the prospect of them finding her, what they would do to her when they did, what they would do to everyone else.

What they had already done.

She'd kicked her suitcase off the bed and flopped back, feeling exhausted. A lot was to come, that much she knew, but everything else was blank. And Ai hated not knowing. There were too many possible solutions—barely any of them good—for her to narrow down to one. If she tried, however, none of them came out in a way that pleased her. Not at all.

Her stomach churned at the one she came to most often. _They all die. _It was a thought that penetrated her worst nightmares, because no matter that she had told Kudo-kun she'd kill him to save the Professor, she knew in her heart she couldn't. She couldn't stand the thought of him, the Professor, or the others losing their lives because of her and her stupidity, her awful decision to actually make the pill that brought them all here to this point. The point where everything was uncertain.

Where everyone could die.

She missed her sister. She missed her a lot, so much that it physically hurt her. She felt like there was a gaping hole in her chest and, sometimes, it felt like it was being repaired. Like when she talked with the Professor, or solved a mystery with Kudo-kun, even when she sat through school with the Detective Boys. But other times, like now, it felt like that hole had been torn wide open again, and there wasn't any way it would get better.

Ai was crying. She knew it, but she didn't acknowledge it. She found her hand fumbling around the nightstand—where, where, _where _was it?—until her fingers closed around something. Her fingers jabbed at buttons, numbers she had pressed many times before, and she brought it to her ear.

The phone rang exactly twelve times, as she knew it would, and went to the answering machine. And then her sister's voice came out, cheerful, like she hadn't a care in the world. _Leave a message, _she told Ai.

She felt her mouth open, wanting to talk to her—_why did you leave me here? Come back—_but instead she pressed her lips tightly together, holding in any sound, every whimper, until she'd returned the phone to its cradle.

_I miss you, _she'd wanted to say. _I really, really miss you._ But instead she cried.

* * *

Gin's cell phone rang only twice before he flipped it open and answered with a sharp, "Yeah?" He paused, then reported, "He bought it. Exactly four million yen. No, he never suspected a thing. It should blow only on his way back, long enough for us to disappear." He glanced over to where Vodka lounged on the couch in his room, bowler sitting on the arm, and sipped gleefully at a wineglass filled to the brim with expensive champagne. Gin raised his glass—_cheers—_and took a swig from his cup.

He nearly choked on it five seconds later when the other end explained their own findings to him. "She called it? Again?" _Stupid her. Lucky us. _"Did you trace it? Can you?" He waited while they explained, and a grin slowly spread across his pale face. He hung up without a word and tossed the phone onto the bed.

"What is it?" asked Vodka, and his voice wobbled in the slightest, effectively telling Gin how many glasses he'd downed already. "What'd they find?"

"Change of plans," Gin replied. "Call the front desk, and tell them that we want a bottle of sherry."

* * *

_**Special thanks to conan44ed for reading this chapter over for me. ^_^ Thanks a bunch! -Wynter Fyres.**_


	4. Four: Bait

**PART FOUR**

"Eh? Two men in all black?" The clerk at the front desk glanced curiously down at him, and Conan smiled like the innocent, curious child he hoped he came across as.

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "I saw them drop this watch on the beach," he continued, holding up his tranquilizer watch, "and I thought it looked really expensive, so I wanted to return it to them. Can you tell me their room number, Onee-san?" He smiled again.

The clerk smiled back down at him. "How considerate of you," she gushed, and he knew he had her—_hook, line, and sinker_. Cute and adorable always worked. "Just give me a moment, little boy…" She turned to her computer and tapped at a few keys, saying as she did, "I remember those men. Scary guys, very rude." She tapped another key. "Maybe this'll cheer them up." Then she looked back down at Conan. "They're on the third floor, room number five," she said cheerfully. "Good luck."

Conan froze, feeling paralyzed for a moment—_305, 305…_ Then he pasted the cheery smile back on his face and sang, "Thank you very much!" in a cute, childish voice. He quickly jumped off the desk, his feet landing on the ground again—he _hated _being this short—and scampered back towards the hotel's lounge. It was full of people waiting for their friends, or watching the baseball game on the television set up on a coffee table covered with ashtrays, bottles, and vacation brochures.

Ai was sitting on one of the large, plush green couches, looking very small indeed among all the decorative pillows. She almost matched the couch, too, in a green sunflower dress, and Conan nearly passed right by her, if it hadn't been for her brunette and call of, "Did you find their room?"

He came to a quick stop and quickly took in her appearance. Despite the dress and the flimsy sandals she wore, she looked awful. Dark circles ringed under her eyes, her face pale and drawn. She hadn't slept at all the night before, he guessed, and she probably wouldn't sleep tonight either. Especially after he told her where they were. He expected, after that, she would be up for days afterwards, asking herself why she hadn't sensed them, worrying that they could get that close without her noticing. He knew he wouldn't sleep much either, considering how much closer they were to him.

"Well? Did you find it?" she repeated.

"Yeah," he said finally. "It was easy. And you say I'm a bad liar—"

"Where are they?" she demanded, putting an end to his stalling.

Conan sighed, took a deep breath, and said softly, "Three-oh-five." And then he waited.

Ai's eyes narrowed, and she exhaled slowly through her teeth. She leaned back into the pillows and he nearly lost her in all the green. She was quiet for a moment, and then she said, "That close, huh?"

"Guess there's no losing them now," offered Conan, the only bright side he could find in this situation, but it didn't seem to be enough because Ai's expression of concern never wavered. Neither did his, but still…

Ai was quiet for a little longer. "This plan of yours better work," she commented after a minute. "If not, we're in serious trouble. Us as well as them."

"Well, aren't you a little ray of sunshine?" he muttered irritably. She just turned her head to stare out the lounge's window, reaching into her little handbag and pulling out her sunglasses. She slipped them onto her face and hid her eyes from him. He scowled at her silence, then told her, "You know, sitting here isn't going to do us any favors. We might as well go be 'normal kids' until they decide to show their faces again."

"What if they've left?"

"Then they wouldn't still have a room number, would they?" Conan sighed. "Just don't look so gloomy. Kids don't look gloomy."

"I'm not a kid," she replied simply, but she turned her hidden eyes back to him and slid off the couch like a chameleon from its hiding place. "Where are the others?"

"Having breakfast," Conan answered, nodding towards the hotel restaurant they'd had dinner at the night before. Through the propped doors, they could see the Professor and the kids seated at one of the window booths happily eating and talking. Very innocent. Very easily broken.

Ayumi seemed to notice someone watching her and turned her head. Seeing Conan, she beamed and waved. "Conan-kun!" she called out. "Ai-chan!"

Conan blinked, surprised they'd seen him, then waved back a little. "Crap," he whispered to Ai. "We've been spotted."

Ai brushed past him and strode towards the restaurant without a word, and Conan jogged to catch up with her, grabbing her wrist. "Oi! Where are you going? We're supposed to be staking out!"

She turned her sunglasses towards him. "We might as well go be normal kids," she quoted him, and he rolled his eyes.

"Fine," he muttered, and she pulled free of his hand. With an eye roll, he followed her into the restaurant.

* * *

Something was definitely wrong.

Ayumi could see it in their eyes still as they slid into the empty seats at the booth, had seen it in the lounge when Conan had grabbed her arm. The way they talked didn't seem normal. In those moments, when she saw more than they thought, they didn't seem like kids. They seemed so much older than her.

But now the three boys quipped back and forth at each other, and the Professor asked how Ai was feeling today. No one seemed to notice the odd exchange the two had had before entering the restaurant except for her, and she found it frustrating. How were people going to believe something was wrong with them if they never saw what she saw?

She'd tried explaining that strange look in their eyes to Mitsuhiko and Genta yesterday, and the hope that they'd seen it too had been destroyed.

"Haibara-san was just sick," Mitsuhiko said, "and Conan-kun was concerned for her. That's all you saw."

"He was concerned because he loves her," snickered Genta, and then the two were launched into a debate about Conan's love life that, on any other day, would've held Ayumi's attention, too. But something about that scared look bothered her because it _was _scared—not sick, not worried.

_Scared._

"Ayumi-chan," Conan said suddenly, and she blinked, realizing she was staring. He was looking at her curiously. "Is everything all right?" he asked. As he spoke, the whole table turned and watched her, too.

"Do you feel sick now, too, Ayumi-chan?" Mitsuhiko asked.

"Eat some eel," suggested Genta. "That'll help."

"Help who?"

Ayumi smiled at them. "I'm fine," she assured them. "I just spaced out. I'm fine." But, as their gazes left her, hers returned to the two in the seat beside her. _I'm fine, _she thought worriedly, _but I'm not sure they are._

* * *

Conan left early from the restaurant, saying he had to go to the bathroom. As he walked away, he marveled about the second lie he'd told without stuttering once, because when he was out of sight, he strode straight past the restrooms and hurried towards the elevators.

A woman in a fancy cocktail dress was just stepping into one behind a gray-suited man, and Conan called out quickly, "Hold the doors!" The man reached out and grabbed the doors before they closed, and Conan jumped in, the man releasing the doors behind him. "Thanks," he panted, out of breath from trying to catch the elevator.

"No problem." The man's hand hovered over the elevator buttons. "Which floor?"

Conan opened his mouth to say it, but looked up and found himself feeling wary. This man could be in disguise. He could be Gin with a fancy mask and a black wig. But when he saw the eyes, they were just that of a bored businessman, one who was now growing impatient with the hesitant kid at his feet. "Three," Conan said finally, and the man jabbed the button and then proceeded to forget he was there.

The elevator doors slid open with a _fwish!_ as the number three lit up above the buttons. Conan quickly stepped out and found his eyes turning back to the two left in the elevator, waiting to see if one got off with him. But they both disappeared behind the closing metal doors, and Conan thought, _Haibara's paranoia is wearing off on me._

He came to his door, slid the keycard into the lock, and when the light flickered green he turned the handle and stepped inside. The room was exactly as they'd left it—unmade beds, a sheet draped over the couch where he'd slept for the second night in a row (he really could only play soccer). The T.V. flickered on some cartoon, the bathroom door was left propped open, and the toilet seat was up. _And I thought I was messy, _he thought as he stepped over clothes strewn across the floor. He made his way through the mess to the connecting door, the object of his attention now.

_304-305_ etched in gold numbers. It was almost a death sentence written on that door. Or a blessing, if you thought about how long he'd searched for that drug. Right now, he wasn't sure which he believed most, but he pushed those conflicting thoughts to the side and dragged the chair from the desk in the corner over to the door, using it as a stool to reach the high lock. He pulled the door open slowly, almost as if he were expecting one of the two to be standing there with a gun, waiting for him. But they weren't, and he opened the door just enough that he could reach in and test the doorknob of the other door.

It was locked, of course. He knew they weren't so stupid as to leave this door unlocked. Still, he had hoped…he redid the locks and left the chair in front of the door so as to block anyone from entry, even though he knew that effort was futile against a grown man's strength.

Then, with nothing else to do, he plopped down onto the arm of his couch and rested his chin on his hand. Her narrowed his eyes at the wall. He thought, thought long and hard.

But still, a respectable plan evaded him. The best he could think of was to wait for them to go to leave and try to snag one of their bags, find information inside, but that was a horrible plan. Too many uncertainties, too many things to go wrong. Besides, what if they recognized him? Or Haibara? And it wasn't like he could let anyone else try and grab it. He groaned a little, feeling a headache coming on, and ran his hands anxiously through his hair.

_God, Haibara's going to kill me for lying, _he thought. But he needed her trust then, because if she ran off somewhere, what would he do? With a wry smile, he thought, _It's my job to protect her. _Then, his smile vanishing, he realized it was his job to protect them all. It was almost too much. He groaned again, then glanced towards the connecting door.

Maybe, just maybe, he could pick the lock. Like with a coat hanger, or the room keycard, like everyone did in movies. It was worth a shot. But what if they were in their room? How could he tell?

His head was pounding by now, and he let himself fall over the arm of the chair and onto his back on the couch. Sometimes he hated being the responsible kid.

_Kid? I'm in high school, _he corrected himself. _Now think, Co— no, Shinichi! Think!_

* * *

The businessman waited patiently until the drunken lady in the cocktail dress stumbled off the elevator on the seventh floor. Then, and only then, did he slide the cell phone from his pocket. Jabbing the four on his speed dial, he waited, tapping his foot, until a gruff voice answered, "Got her?"

"No. No one matching her description according to the front desk."

A swear. Then, "I know she's here! They traced the call to this hotel."

"I've heard," Vodka snapped. "If she's here, I'll find her. What are you doing about this anyway, locked up in that room of ours?"

Vodka could just hear the grin in his partner's voice as he answered, "What do you think? Drinking sherry."

"What, and making me do all the work?" objected Vodka, but there was a click in the middle of his sentence, and when he checked the phone's screen it read CALL DISCONNECTED. "Tch," he said irritably. He was doing something, something he didn't want to tell him. "Acts like he's better than me," he mumbled, then slipped back into the persona of the irritable businessman as the elevator doors opened and an elderly woman stepped in.

* * *

Bait.

It was his best idea so far, to dangle bait in front of them and wait for them to snap at it. Of course, he would be the bait. And he would have to direct their attention to the hotel, yet not them—kid-wise, anyway—directly. Right now that was his best course of action. But he'd have to wait till later, when they were most definitely in their room.

For now, he'd have to return to the restaurant. Say he got lost on the way to bathroom to cover for how long he'd been gone. When asked what was wrong—because he knew someone would ask—he'd blame it on his roaring headache, which wasn't entirely false. It was worsening his mood.

_The Mood. _Isn't that what Ayumi called it? He felt it appropriate in some way, as he was most definitely slipping into it right now.

With a sigh he rolled off the couch, landed on his feet, and began heading back for the door. _Normal kid, _he chanted to himself. _Normal kid. _And he left for the restaurant.

* * *

Whatever was wrong was getting worse. Ayumi could tell, because Conan was gone for so long, then he shows back up looking like the weight of the world was on his shoulders, an expression she'd gotten from her mother. He said he got lost, that he had a headache, and that was that. The conversation went back to Kamen Yaiba and what they were planning to do that day.

But Conan barely spoke. Instead he narrowed his eyes out the window, seemingly deep in thought, and tuned everyone out. Even Ai answered something every once in a while, but Conan was out of it. _It's the Mood, _Ayumi concluded, but it was worse this time than the others. Like there was something he couldn't solve.

Whatever it was, it was getting worse, and Ayumi decided then and there that she would finally figure out what caused the Mood.

And that was when the Professor said, "Hey, kids, guess what I got today?"

Unable to resist the temptation of a surprise, Ayumi asked as interestedly as the others, "What is it?"

"Another treasure hunt?" asked Mitsuhiko.

"Eel?" said Genta hopefully, and they all gave him a funny look. Except Conan, of course. He still looked oblivious.

"No, none of that," chuckled the Professor once their guesses stopped coming. "I went down the to beach today—"

"Without out us?" exclaimed Genta indignantly.

"Professor, you might as well just spit it out," sighed Ai.

The Professor sighed, too. "I rented us a boat."

"We're going to an island?" Ayumi asked excitedly. She glanced over at Conan, who had turned suddenly at the mention of the boat. _That _had caught his attention. So this would be a good thing—she'd finally get to go to the island with Conan, and maybe it'd cheer him up some. Or, at the very least, she corner him and get what was upsetting him out of him.

"We can go if you want," the Professor said. "I thought maybe we could rent some fishing poles, too, and fish us some dinner."

"Cool!" cried Genta and Mitsuhiko.

"When are we going?" asked Conan.

"After we finish here," replied the Professor, and Conan smiled a little.

Ayumi hoped that meant that he'd get out of the Mood and today would be a good day. But, given the look shared between Conan and Ai, she wondered if it was too much to hope for.

* * *

_**Here's chapter four! I hope y'all enjoy it. Hopefully more action will begin to pick up soon if it goes as planned...I know y'all must be getting bored with the same OMIGOD I DON'T HAVE A PLAN thing but it'll get better, I promise. -Wynter Fyres**_


	5. Five: Shack

_**PART**_** FIVE**

Gin waited till he heard the door in the other room snap shut before he opened the connecting door to the two hotel rooms. He hadn't really lied to Vodka. He had been drinking sherry, straight from the bottle, and searching for pictures of the bottle's namesake in the organization database, something to go off of in his searches. Not that he'd ever forget her face, but if he printed out a picture, he'd have something to throw darts at later.

He had just found a picture, fingers hovering over the PRINT button, when he heard the doorknob behind his connected door jiggle. His eyes had traveled over, his entire body going silent.

Someone was trying to get in.

It could be a prank. On any other day, that would've been his first thought, because he _knew _no one had followed him. But considering their recent discovery, he wasn't so sure now. So he watched. And he waited.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, he heard the door in the other room shut, indicating the person had given up and left. That was when he moved to where he was now, slipping the wire into the lock and wiggling it around until the lock popped and he stepped into 304.

He was silent as he took in the room. It looked like a tornado had ripped through it, though the furniture remained intact. There were clothes strewn about, beds unmade, and when he took a step further into the mess, his foot crunched over an action figure. _Toys? _he thought, removing his foot and taking in the doll. Then, with a scowl, he stepped on the doll again until there was a _snap! _and its arm broke off. He snatched up one of the garments on the floor and held it up, looking irritably at its tiny size.

"Kids," he snarled. So it was a prank, and a waste of his time. He threw the shirt back onto the messy floor and hurried back into his room, slamming and locking the door behind him. _I hate kids, _he thought viciously, and jabbed the PRINT button angrily.

Maybe a little game of hit-the-traitor would cheer him up.

* * *

"Excuse me, sir," said Ai in her most innocent voice. "Yesterday my uncles came in here and went to an island out there. They left something, and my friends and my grandpa were going to go find it. Do you know the island they went to?"

Conan watched Ai's exchange with the boat rental clerk with awed eyes. Considering her usual interactions with people, it was always a little unnerving to watch her play the _cute-little-kid _role. Especially when she was so good at it.

"Thank you, Oji-san!" she said happily after a minute, and when she turned to face him, her carefree smile instantly fell back into her cold, calculating look. As she strode past him, towards the docks, she said, "There are four islands, all making a square shape in the water. The clerk saw them go to the back left island."

Conan quickly matched her pace. "Ayumi-chan already wants to go to an island," he said. "It won't be that hard to convince them to go to that particular one."

"If you don't stutter," put in Ai, and Conan shot her a look. On the inside, though, he thought, _Was that a joke? She must be feeling confident. _He could see why. It seemed they might have the upper hand here. The organization didn't know they were here, they knew where Gin and Vodka had gone, what room they were in...but Conan couldn't really imagine her feeling so confident. Ai always seemed to be stuck in pessimism, claiming Gin was actually a step ahead of them.

_Not today, though. I'm sure of it. _He opened the door to the boat rental shack and held it for Ai as the warning bell jingled from the doorframe. They made their way towards the docks, just a couple feet down the beach, in silence. That peace was ruined as soon as their sandaled feet hit the wooden docks, because then a cheery voice called out, "Conan-kun! Ai-chan!" They looked up simultaneously and saw Ayumi waving from a small white motorboat, tied to a wooden post a little ways down. "Here's the boat!" she shouted.

"Awfully small," remarked Ai as they moved towards the boat.

"The boats are probably expensive," shrugged Conan. "At least it's big enough for us."

"Hmm." She didn't sound so sure, but Conan was right. It was crowded, but the six of them could all pile in as long as some of them sat on the boat's floor instead of the benches.

"Not exactly safety protocol," worried the Professor, looking down at Genta and Conan seated by Ayumi, Mitsuhiko, and Ai's feet. "But it'll have to do."

"Just don't make any sudden turns," reminded Conan, flashing back to their car ride here. He shivered a little, wondering if he'd get thrown into the water. At least he could swim. Or float. Either worked.

"Don't worry, Conan-kun," said Mitsuhiko, and, as if reading his thoughts, added in a whisper, "If you go flying, I promise we'll catch you guys."

"Thanks." But he eyed Genta. Could they catch him?

Genta caught his look and narrowed his eyes at him. "Hey, what are you looking at me like that for?"

"N-Nothing!" Conan said quickly.

"You're stuttering," said Ai, and Conan glared at her as Genta said, "Wait, does that mean he's lying?"

"Hang on tight, kids!" called out the Professor, and the motor roared to life, the boat flying forward jerkily, nearly living up to Conan's worries as he almost shot forward. Ai caught his arm, though, and held him back while Ayumi and Mitsuhiko struggled to keep Genta from sliding.

"Lay off the eel!" grunted Mitsuhiko.

"Says who?"

"Professor!" Conan shouted, and the Professor chuckled sheepishly.

"Sorry about that," he said over his shoulder, and the boat quickly righted, slowing down its pace and ceasing to jerk. The five simultaneously let of sighs of relief.

"I almost died!" exclaimed Genta.

Conan leaned back against the benches with another sigh. _This is going to be exactly like the car trip, _he dreaded.

* * *

"Looks, guys, look!" cried Ayumi excitedly, and Conan looked back over his shoulder to see the tiny girl hauling up a rather…_small _fish with all her strength. "I caught one!" she said happily. "Look at it! It's…" And she seemed to notice its size herself and deflated a bit. "It's tiny."

"Good job, Ayumi-chan," said Mitsuhiko quickly, noticing her pout. "You're the first to catch one!"

"Looks tasty," added Genta.

"Really?" Ayumi smiled a little.

"Here." The Professor nudged a plastic blue bucket towards her without releasing his own fishing pole. "Put it in the bucket, and we'll cook it later on the beach."

"Okay!" Ayumi turned and began pulling the hook from the fish's mouth. As she placed it into the bucket of ice, she saw Conan and Ai on the other side of the boat, poles extended over the water. But they didn't seem to be paying attention to them. Instead, they both seemed to be staring out at one of the islands, whispering to each other as they did. She frowned a little bit, and her mind tossed up possibilities for the conversation.

_They could be talking about a hidden treasure, one that's on that island, and they'll tell us about it later and we'll go treasure hunting again. _

_ They could just be admiring the island's forest, because I can see it's really pretty, even from here._

_ They could be planning to go there together secretly…on a date…_

She didn't like the last possibility at all, so she shook her head, then felt grateful for the distraction that came next. "Conan-kun!" she called out. "Your fishing pole!"

"Umph!" Even if his attention had wavered, his grip hadn't, and when the fish kept on swimming against the line, it dragged him forward against the side of the boat. It took him by surprise, and the line eased for a moment before pulling again, harder than ever, and nearly took him over the edge of the boat. "W-Whoa!" he shouted.

"Edogawa-kun?" Ai looked just as surprised, and Ayumi jumped forward and grabbed one of his ankles as he began to disappear over the side. Ai quickly grabbed the other one, and they began to pull him back over.

"Co…nan…kun!" Ayumi ground out as she pulled.

"Let go of the pole!" demanded Ai.

"But…!"

_"Let it go!"_

He let go, and they all went flying backwards onto the boat's floor with a three-way _oomph_.

"Hey," said the Professor, kneeling down besides the heap of kids. "Are you guys all right?"

"I-I think so," said Ai, and Conan rolled off the two girls.

"Thanks," he said, then noticed Ayumi's shoulders shaking. He blinked. "A…Ayumi-chan?" he asked uncertainly. "Are you okay?"

"What happened?" asked Genta, and the other two boys gave Conan accusatory glances. "Did you make Ayumi cry?"

"I…" Conan began his defense, but he was quickly interrupted by Ayumi throwing back her head and busting out laughing. They all watched, a little surprised, as she giggled, "And I…I thought…I was horrible…at fishing!" She pointed at Conan. "That fish almost took you over!"

And she practically rolled with laughter, and it quickly became contagious. First Genta snickered a little, then Mitsuhiko and the Professor, and then Conan was laughing, too, because it was funny to think about, no matter how embarrassing it had been. And, after a minute, they even heard a new sound, something they didn't hear often—a giggle from Ai.

"I lost the fishing pole," said Conan once he could breathe again.

"That's all right, Shinichi, it was only a rental," the Professor assured him, and then they all froze for a moment.

"Shinichi?" echoed Ayumi, confused.

"Who's Shinichi?" asked Mitsuhiko.

Genta snapped. "Doesn't the Professor live next to that Kudo Shinichi detective?" Then he frowned. "But why would he be here?"

Conan's eyes widened, and he said quickly, "M-Maybe he j-just got us confused—" he started to say.

"Um, he's staying at this hotel, too," blurted the Professor, and Conan threw his hands up in the air in defeat.

"Really?" said Mitsuhiko excitedly. "Can we meet him?"

"I've heard about Shinichi-niichan on the news!" Ayumi put in. "He's a great detective!"

"I wanna meet him!" Genta cried.

"_Professor!" _hissed Conan, and the Professor's face went red as he realized what he'd just done. He chuckled sheepishly, refusing to look down at Conan's furious expression.

"Um," said Conan after a second, "Shinichi-niichan must be here on a big case." He gave the Professor a look. "Right, Professor?"

"U-Uh, yeah!" The Professor leapt on the idea. "We shouldn't bother him while he's working…"

"Aw," chorused the three disappointedly.

"That was too close," Conan breathed, and Ai crossed her arms, giving him a look that made him feel like the stupidest person alive. So he quickly offered up a distraction from his alter ego—_Alter ego? It's me!_—and said, "Hey, why don't we go to one of the islands now? We can finish fishing afterwards."

"S-Sure," the Professor said, feeling in no position to argue after the slip he'd just had. "Which one?"

"How about—" Conan started, but he got interrupted for the third time that day.

"How about that one!" said Ayumi determinedly, and she pointed the back left island, the one Conan and Ai had been staring at this whole time. Conan blinked at her, confused, and the Professor stammered another agreement, already moving towards the front of the boat.

Ayumi turned her head a little and saw him looking at her. The determined look faded into an innocent smile. "Isn't that what you wanted, Conan-kun?" she asked.

"Um, y-yeah…"

She smiled again, then turned towards the bucket with the fish in it. As she picked it up to move it to a safer area of the boat, Ai came up behind him and said quietly, "She knows something's wrong. She wants to figure it out."

Conan frowned a little. "I think so, too. That bothers me."

Ai eyed him out of the corner of her eyes, how he set his face in a determined look, chin firmly in his hand as he mulled over this new revelation, and how to deal with it, in his head. Her gaze flicked from Conan to Ayumi, and thought, _They're a lot alike somehow. They're both stubborn. And smarter than they seem. _

"It bothers me, too," Ai said.

* * *

As they jumped down, Genta looked up at the towering trees up the island's beach and felt his mouth fall open. "Woooow," he said. "It's huge!"

"So pretty!" enthused Ayumi, coming up beside him.

"A large variety of wild plants," observed Mitsuhiko.

Conan came up onto the beach quietly, not paying attention to the forest before them in particular. Not as the others were, at least. Instead, his gaze roamed as far as it could, taking in every little detail along the beach and in front of him, searching for anything out of place. Any sign that Gin had been here.

"I don't see anything up front," stated Ai softly beside him, her tone low so as the others wouldn't overhear. "But that's to be expected. They are a secretive group."

"Mmm," was his response. He knew they prided themselves on their covertness, but there was always something. Always some little clue. Otherwise detectives would never be able to find the truth, and there was only one truth.

"Hey, kids," called out the Professor, and the five paused to turn back. The Professor sat on the bench on the boat still, book in hand. "I'm going to stay here," he told them. "Don't go in the trees, and remember to be back from the beach in an hour."

_Sheesh, you sound like an actual adult, _thought Conan, but called out, "All right," along with the others before absently following the Detective Boys as they started running off down the beach. _Got to stay close to them, _he thought after a moment. _I don't know what's out here, what they came here for or left behind. Shinichi-niichan wouldn't let them get hurt—_

He stopped abruptly on the beach. The others, not noticing, kept on walking. _Shinichi-niichan?! That's me. Why am I doing that? _Because things like that had been happening a lot lately. It seemed, as time went on, he got more accustomed to life as Conan than as…

He shook his head quickly. _No, no, no! _he told himself fiercely. _I am not Conan, I am Shinichi! Kudo Shinichi, elementary school—no, _high school _detective of the east! Not a little kid—_

"Conan, we're leaving you behind!" shouted Genta, and he jumped, startled. He glanced up and saw the others far ahead of him, looking back at him curiously. "Conan, hurry up!" Genta yelled.

"C-Coming," he called back, and ran to catch up. When he approached, they started walking again, muttering about how he was so slow. Conan caught Ai watching him. "What?"

"What's wrong with you?" she asked. "You look a little pale."

He couldn't tell her about this. He didn't know why, but he just couldn't bring himself to. "I thought I saw something," he lied, "but it was nothing. Sorry." _I just keep lying. I'm getting better. _Was that a good or bad thing?

Ai shrugged. "I told you," she said, "they're very secret. If there's anything here, it won't be on the beach."

"There's always something."

"Not always. Sometimes there's only luck." She looked over at him. "And we're not always lucky."

He gave her an exasperated glance. "If we think like that," he countered, "we'll never be."

She didn't say anything, but her expression told him loud and clear—_I don't think we've ever been lucky. _

* * *

A hand landed on his wrist, small fingers holding it tight, no escape. Conan turned and looked to see Ayumi standing behind him, a strange look on her face. "Ayumi-chan?" he said curiously. "I thought you were building a sandcastle with—"

"I need to talk to you." She pulled on his arm. _"Privately." _

"U-Um…" Conan blinked and turned to Ai, who had been sitting beside him in the sand. They had been talking about how to get into the forest without the others noticing, but it looked like that was out of the picture now as Ai shrugged at him and Ayumi pulled him to his feet. She started leading him down the beach, refusing to release his arm.

"Ayumi-chan, where are we going?" Conan asked after a moment, noticing the others getting smaller and smaller behind them. But she didn't answer him. "Ayumi-chan? Oi, Ayumi!"

She let go of his arm suddenly, the others no longer in sight, and turned to face him. Her expression was firm. And she suddenly blurted, "You really do like Ai-chan, don't you?"

"Wha—Huh?" Conan felt his face heat up, a sinking feeling in his stomach. _Maybe Haibara's right. We aren't lucky. _"What makes you say that?"

"Don't play dumb!" She took a step closer, and he automatically took a step back. "You're always talking to her. You're always at her house, and you guys are always whispering to each other. You disappear on us, and you talk about things we can't understand." She crossed her arms.

"That's…that's just…!" He was good at confrontations, just not of this kind, and he felt every plausible excuse he'd prepared for a moment like this go running away, out of his head, and the stuttering came back. "I-It's just…" he tried.

"It's just what?" she demanded.

He'd seen Ayumi get like this before—determined, bent on being listened to and answered. He'd never actually realized how intimidating she could be when she raised her voice and crossed her arms, because on most days she was just sweet. He blinked, realizing who this sounded like—_She sounds like Ran-neechan. _And he felt his face redden more.

"It's just…we're good friends," he managed finally. "Practically related, you know, through the Professor. Can…can we go back now—"

"You're lying."

He swore in his head, thinking, _But I didn't even stutter this time! _"No, I'm not," he insisted. "I—" He stopped suddenly, eyes locked on something over Ayumi's shoulder.

A boat. It wasn't theirs.

And, hung on the front of the boat, was a black fedora.

"You what?" Ayumi was saying. "Conan-kun, I really just want to know what's going on, because—"

_"Shhh!" _Conan hissed, and Ayumi blinked, opened her mouth to say something, but was quickly silenced when Conan put his hand over her mouth. She looked at him, wide-eyed, as Conan put a finger to his lips and slowly removed his hand before hurrying around her and running towards the boat.

"Conan-kun!" she whispered after him, finding herself scared into soft tones. "What's wrong?" When he didn't answer, she chased after him. "Conan-kun," she repeated as she got closer to the boat. "What are you—?"

"Shhh!" he said again, and she shut her mouth. Conan was on his knees by the front of the boat, where it was pulled up a little on the sand. She looked down, too, and saw large footprints pressed into the sand. Ayumi followed them with her eyes up the beach and into the forest.

Conan followed them, too, and after a minute said in just as firm a tone as she had just been using, "Ayumi-chan, go back to the others. I'll meet you there in a bit." Then he stood up, brushed the sand off his knees, and proceeded to follow the footprints up the beach.

"Conan-kun!" she called after him. "Where are you going?"

"I'll be back in a little while," he replied simply, not even bothering to turn around. "Tell Haibara where I've gone."

Ayumi's lips twisted into a frown as she went over her options. One, she could follow what Conan said and go back to the others to wait for him, despite not knowing what he was getting into or even where he was going. Two, she could stay here and wait by the boat.

Or three—she could follow the footprints, too, as well as Conan, to see where he was headed.

She glanced down the beach in the direction of the others. _Tell Haibara where I've gone, _he'd said. That meant he'd wanted _her _to find him. Not Ayumi.

Ayumi made up her mind and waited till Conan was in the trees, where he couldn't see her, before silently going after him. _I'll show him I'm just as good as Ai-chan is, _she told herself. _I'll show him._

* * *

Conan followed all the clues left behind for him—the footprints, a cigarette butt, a trail of snapped twigs—all the way to a small shack in the center of the forest, out of sight no matter what direction you came up from on the island. It had windows on every wall, a door that was propped wide open, and the grass, bushes, and trees had been cut forty feet in all directions, leaving it nearly impossible to run up to the shack unnoticed. So, plotting and planning, Conan crouched behind the bushes, just out of sight of the west-side window. Peeking through the leaves, he watched smoke crawl lazily from a small, rundown-looking chimney, indicating somebody was there.

Somebody with a black fedora, and a black overcoat if the one hanging in front of the window was any indication. Someone was standing beside the window as well, but this one had on his coat, one that looked like a designer gray jacket, and they were blocking most of the view, preventing him from seeing his face or the face of his companion. But, at least, this proved there were two people inside.

He was dying to hear what they were talking about. He knew it had to be important, otherwise they wouldn't be on an island in the middle of a lake in a tiny shack in a forest. Too many precautions, so it had to be very important. He had to hear it. But how would he get there…

"Is there treasure hidden there?"

Conan jerked backwards, shocked, and accidentally barreled into the knees of someone else. With a cry, they tumbled over on top of his chest, and Conan got a glimpse of pink before a sandaled foot kicked him in the side of the head and he saw stars. "Ow," a high voice whined, then, "Oh, I'm so sorry, Conan-kun! Are you all right?" Hands pushed down on his chest, propping the person up, and when his vision cleared he was looking up at Ayumi's concerned face.

For a moment, he felt a little frozen, and just felt his heartbeat thumping under Ayumi's hands, still pressed on his chest. Then he jerked again with a "Gah!" and slid out from under her. She sat up before she fell into the grass and watched him scramble back, putting a good three feet between them. She giggled a little bit, because he looked embarrassed and she thought it was cute.

"Wha…What are you doing here?" he hissed finally, his blush fading, and he pushed his glasses back up his nose from where they'd slid down. "I told you to go back to the others!" He looked around suddenly. "They're not here, too, are they?"

Ayumi frowned a little. "I can do things by myself," she said crossly. "They don't always have to come, too."

"Well, you need to leave." He narrowed his eyes at her. _"Now." _

"No." She crossed her arms. "You aren't getting the treasure all to yourself."

"It isn't treasure!" he snapped. "It's dangerous, and you need to go back! Find Haibara—"

"I can do whatever Ai-chan can," she snapped back. "Besides, I'm already here."

Conan made a slight growling noise and dropped his head into his hands for a moment. Then he said, "Fine, fine, just be quiet and do what I say."

Ayumi beamed triumphantly. And that was when they noticed the shadow that had fallen over them.

Before she could look, a hand clamped over her mouth, the other wrapping around her midsection and lifting her up into the air. She shouted into the stranger's palm, kicking her legs furiously, and heard Conan yelled, "Ayumi-chan!"

"You'll stay still, kid, if you want your friend to stay whole," a deep voice said by her ear. The arm around her waist moved until there was something cool pressed against her stomach, and she realized with a jolt of fear that it was a gun. Her eyes filled with tears, and she saw Conan gritting his teeth, looking conflicted. Then she saw the hands coming out of the trees behind him.

_Conan-kun, watch out! _she tried to scream, but the hand muffled her voice, and by the time Conan caught her gaze, the hands had already closed around his throat and begun to squeeze.

Ayumi screamed against the hand as Conan writhed the man's grip, mouth open and gasping for air, and he slowly stopped struggling. Finally his eyes fluttered closed and he went limp, and she could feel the tears flowing down her cheeks and over the hand against her lips. _Did they kill him? _she fretted as the man stepped out of the trees, moving his hands to sling Conan over his shoulder. He was a tall, foreign man with graying hair and a black mustache, wearing a fancy gray jacket. She took it all in quick, because if she lived, she wanted to be able to tell the police who'd hurt them.

That was what crossed her mind before something soft slipped into the hand over her mouth and was pressed against her nose. She started kicking again before the smell hit her, and then she passed out, too.

* * *

"Did they hear us?" worried Klein as the little girl's eyes shut and Takashi slipped the chloroformed handkerchief and gun back into his pants pockets. "If they heard us…"

"It doesn't matter if they heard us," Takashi said, throwing the girl over his shoulder, too. "Either way, they know where the hideout is. We'll have to kill them either way."

Klein's face instantly drained of color. "K-Kill them?" he echoed disbelievingly. "But…but they're _children_!"

Takashi didn't say anything to that. Instead he said, "Take them back to the shack, tie them up. When we're finished, we'll take them on the boat. Drown 'em in the middle of the lake." He turned and started heading back towards the shack.

"W-Wait! Takashi!" Klein jogged forward, the boy's head bouncing against his back, and his glasses fell to the grass. His foot accidentally crunched over them, shattering the lenses, but he kept going. "We can't just kill kids," he objected as he caught up to the tall Japanese man. "I mean, the police won't listen to them anyway—"

"Can't take the risk."

"But—!"

Takashi paused in front of the open door and sent a cold glance in Klein's direction, one that stopped him in his tracks. "Listen," he said firmly. "We've got the suitcase now, got out of that demented business. But that doesn't make us clean, or safe, and we've come too far to have it all be destroyed because _now _you have conscience." His lips stretched in a disturbing grin. "You weren't upset when you killed that mother back in Germany, were you? Or the old man?"

Klein's eyes were locked on his feet, his teeth gritted. He said nothing, and Takashi took it as an agreement. So he passed the girl into Klein's free arm and repeated, "Tie them up. Put them on the boat. We'll deal with them later."

* * *

_**So how's that for story development? I think I did pretty good, but I did write a lot early in the morning or late at night, so if you see a spelling error, please tell me and I'll fix it! Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. I actually put a lot of thought into it. :) -Wynter Fyres**_


	6. Six: Bomb

**PART SIX**

Conan's eyes blinked open slowly, as if waking from a dream. The world seemed off around him, blurry at the edges, and a headache throbbed in the recesses of his mind. He moaned softly, and his eyes closed again, plunging him back into darkness.

He would have gone back to sleep if it hadn't been for the voices.

_"…far in do we take them?"_

_ "Told you. Middle of the lake."_

He moaned again. "Five…more minutes…Ran-neechan," he mumbled blearily. But they kept talking.

_"I thought we were coming clean! No more murders…we were escaping!"_

_ "Don't worry. We'll make it look like an accident. Those bumbling fools at the station won't see through it."_

_ "But…"_

Something registered in Conan's mind at the word "murders." His eyes opened for the second time, the world a bit more focused. It took him a couple more blinks for it to be recognizable—he was on a boat, tied to the benches…

No. _They _were on a boat, tied to the benches.

He could feel the rise and fall of Ayumi's breathing, her back to his, their hands tied together, then to the metal legs of the bench. Or that's what he guessed, since his hands could only follow the rope so far. He looked up slowly, so as not to garner the attention of their captors, and glanced towards the front of the boat, back towards Ayumi.

There was the man with the expensive coat, the one who'd tried to strangle him. His neck still ached with bruises left from that man's fingers. And the other man, the one steering…short gray hair, tied back in a small ponytail, black overcoat and fedora…and not Gin.

Conan felt his mouth twist into a scowl. He'd put them both in danger for _this_? What was this, anyway?

The foreigner started shifting anxiously from one foot to the other. "How much farther, Takashi?" he asked.

"Will you shut up?" snapped his companion—Takashi? "Look, you want something useful to do now? Why don't you go check the briefcase and see if they gave us the real deal, all right?"

"What?" the foreigner exclaimed. "You haven't checked it already?"

"I was waiting for you."

"We could be killing kids for nothing!" the man shouted, and Takashi turned slightly towards him. Conan quickly dropped his head and closed his eyes, feigning unconsciousness in case the man caught sight of him.

"Just check the case," snarled Takashi, "and leave this work to me!" There was a thump, and Conan guessed he'd shoved his partner. There was a soft muttering, then footsteps headed his direction. As he came closer, Conan's foot twitched anxiously. They hadn't tied his feet, probably not fearing the kicking strength of a kid, and he would be ready when the man came just close enough…

_Wait. _

He didn't have his shoes. He had on _flip-flops_.

He cursed himself a million times over as the man came into range, and he felt him crouch down beside them. Conan tensed, but didn't dare open his eyes to see what was going on. He heard something slide out from underneath the bench—the briefcase, he guessed—and the man standing and walking away.

After a moment, he dared to peek through barely cracked eyelids and saw the foreigner seated on the bench opposite of them, hands reaching for the black briefcase's metal clasps. Just before undoing them, he paused. "What if it's not really it?" he asked quietly. "Will you still kill them?"

"Just open it." That was the other man's reply, which was answer enough to both Conan and the foreigner, both of whom shivered a little. And then the man reached for the clasps again.

As the two's attention was placed elsewhere, Conan tugged experimentally on the knots tying them together. Biting back a sigh of relief, he felt the knots give, if only a little. _They don't expect much of kids, thank God. _Slowly, he turned his wrists in the free space in the rope, turning his hands palm up so that his fingers could grasp the connecting knot. Gently he began to pull on them, loosening them. All the while he kept his eyes on the foreigner and his suitcase.

_Let's see…_tug, tug…_what's inside…_tug…

The man pulled the top open and looked inside. After a moment there was a surprised exclamation of, "What?"

"Huh?" Takashi glanced back. "Did they dupe us?" His voice had dropped an octave, making a dangerous tone, indicating he would not be happy with a "yes."

"W-Well, I…I really…" The man sounded baffled, and Conan opened his eyes a little bit wider. _What's in there…?_ "This looks like…" _C'mon, what is it!_

"A teddy bear."

_What? _Conan thought incredulously. _All this for a teddy bear?_

"You're kidding!" The boat sputtered noisily to a stop and Takashi thundered back, snatching the stuffed animal from his partner's hands. When he realized that it was, indeed, a teddy bear, his nails tore furiously into the brown felt, pulling an arm and then a leg from the animal before dropping it disgustedly onto the deck, spilling stuffing onto the floor. "They're trying to make fools of us!" he growled to his friend. "Absolute fools!"

"I feel a fool," muttered the foreigner, dropping his head into one hand. "If you'd only checked it before…"

Takashi turned around and smashed his fist into the foreigner's face, who was flung back against the boat's railing by the force of the punch. When he looked up, his nose was bleeding and his eyes were furious.

"You little…!" he started.

"I want you to sit down and shut up while I think of what to do!" The loudness and force of his words caused the foreigner to shut his mouth abruptly, though his face remained red with fury. There was silence for a moment.

That was when Conan heard it.

_Tick…Tick…Tick…Tick…_

He moved his gaze from the arguing men and down towards the teddy bear, from where he was sure the noise was emitting. He thought he could see something sticking out of the hole where the arm used to be…just maybe…was it black? He squinted at it.

It was the tip of a little black box. One that went _tick, tick, tick. _

Conan felt his heart stop beating for a moment before his sly escape attempt turned into a full-out frantic one, throwing secrecy to the wind. His fingers tore at the rope, desperately trying to free Ayumi before…

"Takashi, the kid!"

Instantly a hand grabbed his shirt, pulling him forward against the ropes. "Oi!" the man shouted. "Sit still, brat—"

The force of his pull, however, tore the ropes the rest of the way loose, and they uncoiled from around his and Ayumi's wrists. "Ayumi-chan!" he shouted, all too aware that the ticking had increased. "Ayumi-chan!"

"Mmm?" The little girl sleepily opened her eyes. "What…?"

Conan bent his head and bit into the man's hand on his shirt as hard as he could, feeling his teeth pierce the skin. He tasted blood before the man howled in pain and brought his other hand up to slap him, throwing him back down onto the bench hard. "You stupid little runt," snarled the man, reaching out for him again, but Conan had already stood up, dragging Ayumi into a standing position, too.

"C-Conan-kun!" she shouted, startled, confused.

"Ayumi, jump!" he screamed, and he hurled himself over the side of the boat, taking Ayumi down with a shriek after him.

Seconds after they hit the water, sinking down just far enough, the world above them exploded into oranges and reds. The water rocked with waves from the force of the explosion, turning the two in circles, and Conan quickly drew Ayumi into him, keeping her close as the world turned upside down around them. After a moment, his lungs aching, piece after piece of burning metal splashed into the water beside them, scratching and scraping him on the way down, leaving his shirt tattered. His flip-flops floated away in the water, and he didn't care.

By that point, all he cared about was breathing again. He kicked his feet hard, pulling himself and Ayumi up to the surface. They gasped in big gulps of oxygen, as much as they could hold, and Ayumi was crying now, holding herself to him instead of him holding her now.

The boat was in pieces, and the two men were gone.

* * *

Ayumi hadn't spoken since the rescue boat had pulled them both from the wreckage. Instead, wrapped in a fluffy blanket one of the rescue members had handed her, she'd curled up on a cot below deck and went straight to sleep, staying conscious long enough to just drag Conan down onto the edge of the cot at her feet. And with that, the first aid came down to treat the many scrapes he'd gotten and inspect the bruises along his windpipe.

"He really got you, didn't he?" the woman muttered pityingly. "I'm sorry, boy. But you're safe now."

"Mmm," he replied absently. _Who had placed that bomb? _That was all his mind was on at this moment, barely feeling the sting as she dabbed at a scratch above his brow with alcohol. He actually had a good idea who had placed the bomb, but was that really their style? He wasn't sure. _Haibara will know._

"Boy?"

Conan blinked and realized the woman had been asking him a question. He offered a small smile. "Um, what?"

"Who were you with before you were kidnapped? We'll need your names so we can find you and your sister's parents…"

"She's not my sister." He glanced over at Ayumi worriedly. "We're part of the same club. A good friend of ours took us five out on a trip, and we wandered off and…" He shrugged a little. "Well, you know."

"Oh." The woman blinked. "Well…we'll still need your names."

"I'm Edogawa Conan. She's Yoshida Ayumi." And he went on give them the rest of their information—how old they were, what hotel and what rooms, what was their guardian's name…

"Thank you, Conan-kun," the woman said kindly after a while, once Conan wanted to think and feigned exhaustion. She stood up and began to leave the room. "Don't worry, you're safe now," she said, then closed the door behind her.

He had been faking it. Or, at least, he thought he had. But after a while, he decided lying down wouldn't be so bad. Or closing his eyes. Or…

And then he was asleep.

* * *

When he woke up, Conan was surrounded by people. As his eyes fluttered open, he took in their worried faces—_there's Mitsuhiko and Genta…the Professor…even Haibara._

"Conan-kun?" Mitsuhiko leaned forward, taking up the line of sight. "Are you awake?"

"Conan, what happened out there?" demanded Genta, pushing Mitsuhiko aside.

"Yeah, yeah! What happened?"

"Kids, he's tired," came the Professor's voice, and the two leaned out of the way and he could see them all again. "Give him a minute."

"Sorry," the two chorused, but they waited anxiously as Conan adjusted to another new place. _I need to stop waking up in random places, _he thought irritably, realizing he was in a hotel bed now, and from the laptop set up on the desk in the back, he'd guess it was the Professor's room. He put his hands against the bed to push himself up, but felt his hand hit someone else's. He glanced to the side and saw Ayumi fast asleep beside him. Tired as he was, he still had enough brain to think, _We slept together?! _

He quickly sat up, pushing that thought away. Instead, he asked the first thing that came to mind. "When did you all get here?"

"We got a call—" started the Professor.

"We thought you'd died!" interrupted Genta loudly.

"We were so worried!" Mitsuhiko added. "They carried you two off the boat, and neither of you were conscious, and we didn't know what had happened!"

"It was scary," agreed Genta.

Ai approached the side of the bed. Her eyes were concerned, an expression he rarely saw. "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "We weren't on the boat when it exploded, so I'm fine…"

"Good." She raised her hand and flicked him soundly in the forehead.

"Ow!" he yelped as she snapped in a whisper, "What were you thinking? I know you were chasing a clue, and you took Yoshida-san _with you_? What is wrong with you?" She faltered. "I thought you wouldn't let them get hurt."

Conan's irritated look turned into a full-on glower. "And she isn't, is she?" he snapped back. "I told her to go back! She followed me!"

"Conan-kun!" Mitsuhiko interrupted again, and their conversation came to an abrupt halt. "You're just a magnet for danger, aren't you?" Mitsuhiko observed.

"This is the second bomb you've been with!" Genta put in.

"Well, it's not like I asked to be with them!"

* * *

_I know you were chasing a clue, and you took Yoshida-san with you. _

Her mouth pressed into a thin line.

_I know you were chasing a clue, _they said. But a clue to what?

She opened one eye just a bit so she could see the looks on their faces. She already knew, but she needed to see anyway, and found herself correct. They were not the expressions of two first grade students. _So much older…_

Ayumi closed her eye again before they noticed her. Her mind replayed the events of the past days—_the scared expressions, the shack, the foreigner, a boat and a bomb…_

Something very big was going on here, something that involved Ai and Conan and something they didn't want anyone else to know about. And she didn't think it was a relationship, either.

_I'll help them. I swear it. _

* * *

**_I know this one's kinda short, and not my best, but I had a hard time putting this one into words for some reason. Phooey. Anyway, I did my best and I hope you like it! -Wynter Fyres_**


	7. Seven: Mission

**PART SEVEN**

The Professor hoisted his suitcase atop his bed, unzipping it quickly and flipping it open. Ai, leaning against the door, watched him quietly as he began to toss his clothes in, not even bothering to fold them properly. _I'll have to fix that later, of course, _she thought briefly before crossing her arms and speaking up.

"What are you doing?"

"Packing."

"Why?"

The Professor gave her a look out of the corners of his eyes. "I believe Ayumi-kun's parents would rather have her home after being kidnapped on my watch," he answered flatly. "Not to mention Yuusaku and Yukiko…"

"Kudo-kun's parents?" Ai felt one corner of her mouth twitch up. "Aren't they used to this mess by now?" she inquired. "I think they know it's not your fault."

"They don't even know half of what he gets into nowadays," he replied, returning to forcing shirts into the suitcase. "And neither do the rest of their parents."

Ai quieted for a moment. She saw where he was coming from, and on any other day would have agreed with him. But she couldn't leave her yet, not with them roaming about. Kudo-kun had checked earlier at the front desk, and they hadn't checked out yet. She hadn't known them to stay in one place for so long without a good reason, and that would usually turn out to be awful for everyone involved. She couldn't leave not knowing.

"I think we should stay," she forced out finally.

The Professor paused in his packing for the second time, the look he gave her now incredulous. "You think we should stay?" he echoed disbelievingly. "After what just happened?"

Ai managed a shrug that she hoped looked nonchalant. "That was coincidence," she said. "One of the random things we always stumble into." When the Professor's eyebrow actually managed to go farther up his forehead, Ai went on, "I mean, Yoshida-san would be upset if we left just for her, and if we stay, she'll still get her vacation—"

The Professor sighed, suddenly, and looked back down into his suitcase. Ai stopped talking, wondering what he'd say. There was a stretch of silence that felt like eternity to her before he finally said, "You and Shinichi are up to something."

Her eyes widened, and she automatically opened her mouth to object, but he continued, "You think I don't notice, but you've been very quiet lately. And Shinichi's been running around with that…_look_ in his eye." He turned towards her, and, for some reason, she felt her throat close up with emotion.

Because he looked so worried for her. Not just Kudo, but for her.

"You guys are onto something, and for whatever reason, you've decided not to tell me what," he said. "You can trust me, you know?"

Ai pressed her lips into a thin line, forcing an explanation back down her throat. She wanted to tell him, but she knew why she couldn't. Not yet.

When he saw she really wasn't going to tell him, he sighed again, this time turning his back to her. There was another moment of silence before he reached out and grabbed his suitcase handle, silently dragging it back onto the floor. "I'll give you two days," he said finally. "Two days to handle…whatever this is. But when the time's up, we're leaving."

AI breathed out slowly, relieved. She opened her mouth, paused, then said, "Thank you, Professor."

He waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah."

And she smiled, just a bit.

* * *

"Mitsuhiko, what are we—"

"Shhh!"

"Don't _shhh_ me!"

"Quiet!" snapped Mitsuhiko, and Genta scowled and closed his mouth. When he was certain he wasn't going to speak, Mitsuhiko turned and peeked back around the corner. He watched as Ai came down the hallway and slipped a keycard into the girls' door's lock, and waited until she'd stepped inside and shut the door to turn back towards Genta. "Coast is clear," he whispered, then hurried down the hall, past their doors, and towards the elevators.

"W-Wait!" Genta's footsteps followed him. Mitsuhiko waited impatiently at the elevator doors for him to catch up, then reached up and pressed the DOWN button on the elevator. He could feel Genta glaring at his back, but before he could demand an explanation for his weirdness, the elevator doors _ping_ed open, and Mitsuhiko jumped inside. Not wanting to be left behind, Genta quickly stepped in after him.

"Will you tell me what we're doing already?" he demanded irritably as the doors slid shut.

"We're on a mission," Mitsuhiko answered.

Genta instantly perked up. "Mission? What kind?"

"It's—" Mitsuhiko started to reply, but then the doors opened onto his desired floor and he quickly ran out instead of finishing his sentence. He heard Genta groan behind him before his footsteps quickly joined his again.

"The lobby?" Genta asked after a moment. "Why the lobby?"

"You'll see." He'd reached the front desk, and he hopped up to grab the top so the manager could see his face as he smiled a sweet, dimpled smile at her. "Can I ask you a question?" he asked when she noticed him. "About a guest here?"

"What is your relationship to this guest?" The manager didn't seem to be buying any of his cute-little-kid act. With a _why-are-you-wasting-my-time _glare, she peered down at him over thick-rimmed glasses and spoke in a strange, raspy voice. "We do have a policy around here, and I can't just go about giving out room numbers."

"Old lady," Mitsuhiko heard Genta mutter, and he quickly kicked him in the shin. As he hopped away on one leg, Mitsuhiko tried another smile, and the woman's eyes narrowed further.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"I could've sworn I heard—"

"My relationship to the guest?" Mitsuhiko smoothly interrupted. "I'm…his little brother." In hindsight, he probably should have just mentioned the Professor's family friend status, but in the moment, it didn't cross his mind. "I can't remember which room number we are, and my brother won't be back for hours. But it's under my brother's name, so…"

The manager stared at him for a moment, as if trying to see if he was telling the truth. Lucky for him, Mitsuhiko was a pretty good liar, and finally the woman sighed and turned towards her computer, fingers poised over the keys. "Name?"

"Kudo Shinichi," he answered, and Genta muttered a, "Hey, hey…"

"K-Kudo?" The woman gave him a sideways look. "You're the little brother of that famous high school detect—"

"What's his room number?" Mitsuhiko demanded impatiently, the chuckled nervously and corrected himself. "I mean, _our _room number."

The manager's frown deepened, and she turned away from her computer to lean over the counter, over him. "Listen, kid, I would remember a name like his," she said irritably, "and there is no one under the name 'Kudo Shinichi' in this hotel. So take your games somewhere else."

Mitsuhiko frowned back at her. "No, he must be here—" he insisted.

"If you don't leave now, I'll call your _real _family," the woman threatened, and Mitsuhiko met her glare for a moment before letting go of the counter and dropping back onto the floor. He resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at her when she turned around, instead focusing his attention on the problem at hand.

"The Professor said he was here," he mumbled to himself. "And the Professor wouldn't lie, would he?"

"Mitsuhiko, are you going to tell—"

"So that would mean Shinichi-niichan is here…"

"Hey, are you listening to me?"

"Under an alias? Probably. But wouldn't people recognize his face?"

"Oi…Mitsuhiko."

"A disguise, too, then."

_"Mitsuhiko!" _Genta shouted, getting close to his friend's ear, and Mitsuhiko winced and leaned away from him.

"What?" he snapped. "What is it?"

"Why are we looking for Kudo? Why are you being so secretive? Why aren't we telling the others? And I'm hungry. Can we get lunch?" Genta fired off the questions he'd been holding in, and Mitsuhiko rolled his eyes at his friend.

"_I'm _looking for Shinichi-niichan," Mitsuhiko corrected. "You can go get lunch if you want."

"But why are _we_," Genta replied, emphasizing the 'we' with a pointed glance, "looking for Kudo?"

Mitsuhiko sighed. He'd wanted to do this by himself, but with Genta already here…help might not be so bad. "The others have looked really down lately," he explained quickly, because he didn't want to waste any time. "So I thought if we could find the high school detective, it'd really cheer them up. I mean, he can't be _that _busy, right? Surely if we explain—"

But Genta was already onboard. "I bet he's on the top floor," he suggested.

Mitsuhiko blinked. "The top floor? Why?"

"Because the top floor's for the really important people!" Genta explained. "A detective on the job is really important, right?"

For a minute, Mitsuhiko considered arguing with him—_detectives are important, but not that important; besides, if he's under a different name, he wouldn't blow his cover by getting a floor above his alias's standards_—but decided against it. Might as well start from the top down if he was going to have to search every floor anyway.

"Okay. Let's go," he said.

* * *

The manager watched the two boys run into the elevators and waited until the doors slid shut before picking up the phone seated beside the computer. She waited impatiently as the phone rang until someone finally picked up and she said, "Remind me why we had this disguise again?"

"Why are you calling now?" Gin demanded on the other line, not interested in his companion's complaints.

"Two kids just came by looking for Kudo," said Vodka, slipping into a softer tone and out of the voice he'd been using. "Said they heard he was in the building. One said that he was his little brother." He hesitated. "He was probably lying, but—"

"Are you still at the desk?"

"Yes…"

"Idiot!" shouted Gin, and Vodka lifted the phone a little bit away from his ear. "Don't just sit there, follow them!"

"But I thought you wanted Sher—"

"Two birds with one stone," Gin interrupted curtly, and then the line disconnected.

* * *

Conan stared at the cell phone. He had decided on the bait idea a while back, but hadn't had any time to make the call yet. Now that he did have time, he found himself nervous like he hadn't been making the decision.

He really didn't want to make the call. He didn't want to make them aware of his presence. He'd much rather forget they were there and continue with his vacation, forget them and the bomb and the drug…

Conan squeezed his eyes shut tight as if locking the thought away. "No, I need it," he told himself. "That's not me thinking that, it's Co—" He opened his eyes abruptly.

_It's not me, it's Conan? _he thought incredulously. _I _am _Conan. Without me, Shinich—no, Conan! Conan wouldn't exist…_

God, this was getting confusing. This is why he needed that drug, to remind himself of who he really was, who was fake and who wasn't. Because it seemed like his two identities were beginning to blur together, and he wasn't sure which would come out the victor in the battle for his mind.

_And to get the drug, I need to call them. _

That was how he forced himself to pick up the phone and dial the front desk's number.

* * *

Vodka had slipped back into his businessman persona, stripping the wig and manager's outfit off and stuffing them into an official looking briefcase before striding out of the men's restroom and back into the lobby. If anyone had noticed the female manager going into the men's bathroom, no one cared now, and no one spared him a glance as he hurried by the front desk.

He wouldn't have gone back if he hadn't realized he'd left his cell phone back on the desk. And if he hadn't have done that, he wouldn't have heard the message left on the hotel landline.

_"Um, yes, this is Kudo Shinichi. I was wondering if you could send someone up with some lunch…"_

Vodka felt his eyes widen. He really was here? He'd honestly thought this was going to be pointless, but if those kids were right… He looked back towards the elevator. Maybe they weren't lying about everything…

He hurried towards the elevator.

* * *

Mitsuhiko waited impatiently at the end of the eighth floor hallway for Genta to finish his side of the floor. With no other way to determine where Kudo was, they'd resorted to knocking on every door. Mitsuhiko was certain he'd be able to see through whatever disguise the detective had since he'd seen enough pictures of him in the newspaper to know his face. Genta swore the same, and Mitsuhiko just had to go on his word. This was becoming time consuming, though, and Mitsuhiko had to admit that even he was getting hungry now.

_I hope we find him soon, _he thought as Genta finally came running towards him with a scowl.

"The old lady was a real jerk," he muttered angrily as he approached. "And I'm pretty sure it wasn't him."

Mitsuhiko sighed disappointedly, but he had expected as much. "Okay," he said, "onto the seventh floor!"

Genta groaned. "Can't we eat first?" he whined as Mitsuhiko pressed the elevator button. "I'm starving!"

"You're always starving," pointed out Mitsuhiko, and Genta shot him a glare.

"So? I like food. Is that bad?"

Mitsuhiko was spared an answer as the doors opened, and he quickly stepped inside with Genta grumbling behind him. He looked up as the man beside them glanced down at them through dark sunglasses and over the top of a newspaper. "What floor?" he asked.

"Seven, please," they answered together. But when the man reached out, he pressed the three. "Um, sir, I said sev—"

There was a soft _click _before something black and metal poked out from underneath the newspaper. Mitsuhiko felt his stomach drop to his knees as he realized what it was. Genta a sputtered a, "Wha…Wha…"

"Now, little boys," the man said smoothly, "you're going to help us find Oniisan." He flashed them a smile, but it looked cold and threatening to Mitsuhiko. "Right?"

* * *

**_I hope you like this chapter. Aren't the Detective Boys a little nosy sometimes? :) Gotta love 'em. -Wynter Fyres _**


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